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Cecil Nevverling-Wijgaants
Cecil Nevverling-Wijgaants is a senior attending Prefeton High School. Appearance Physical Cecil is physically average in terms of strength, if perhaps a bit frail for a 16 year old boy on account of his hormonal structure. He has a fairly rectangular body shape overall, and borders on lanky, although he moves with reasonable grace. Style Cecil often dresses dapperly, prefering collared shirts and trousers above even jeans and t-shirts. He has been known to wear makeup and heels, but otherwise dresses conventionally masculine. Personal Personality Cecil considers himself, and indeed is, quite bright, although he endeavours not to seem like a showoff in class. He enjoys being right, but believes it is "not in the spirit of good faith not to dominate classroom discussion." His sense of humour leans dark, and he's fond of "philosophical games," but tries his best to appreciate smaller details as well. He used to bite his tongue liberally and did not voice his thoughts for politeness' sake, Cecil now inclines himself to speak his mind and make whatever comments might occur to him, though he does remind himself that accuracy does not indicate how socially acceptable a statement might be. He has been known to come up with biting insults, but prefers to avoid roasting those that he believes deserve it. He takes an overcorrective approach when it comes to stress management, to the point where he appears quite jaded towards even college admissions, although he always points out "it’s better than having a fight or flight response to a pop quiz." He endeavours to be helpful, but often finds himself with a negative streak that he can't shake. This natural negativity bleeds over into his judgement of himself, and so, while he does his best to remain positive, sometimes he fails to do so, and may find himself overtaken by feelings of douleur and uselessness. Skills *Language Learning **English(C2) **Afrikaans(C2) **Dutch(C1) **French(B2) **Japanese(B1) *Social Studies **Western & Asian History **Economics *Moderately skilled with computers *Writing, Lyricism *Calligraphy *Makeup *Basic car maintenance *Rifling Weaknesses *Poor music skills *Poor hearing, reaction time, and tunnel vision *Shaky hands *Motor Tic Powers Phase 1 Character Model Jailbreak(1) Cecil’s body is no longer firmly bound by certain physical restraints. This manifests in his ability to violate the integrity of his own physical form in a number of ways, albeit with imperfect control. His body may stretch as if it were elastic, although it lacks the structural integrity of someone with a truly elastic body. Likewise, by baseball sliding or tripping into physical obstacles, Cecil may clip through them and glitch out on the other side. Visible glitching occurs in tandem with these activities. Phase 2 Character Model Jailbreak(2) Cecil’s bodily integrity can be more readily violated with greater control. He may clip his entire body through a wall, or simply a part of himself, usually his head, through hard surfaces so long as he tries to hit them with sufficient force and has the desire to clip. His physical modification can be more readily controlled, able to actively control his stretching, as well as effecting minor appearance modifications by holding certain items(Ex: Razor for facial hair, hairbrush for hair, etc). Commands(1) By saying “T: forward-slash summon”, Cecil can execute the /summon command, enabling him to obtain in his hands any good he is aware of, up to five before exhaustion will overtake him and he needs to rest. Phase 3 Character Model Jailbreak(3) Cecil’s bodily integrity is under his full control, obeying his commands over those of physics. This manifests in his ability to clip/see through walls at will. He may stretch his extremities with similar control to that of a character animated in the rubber hose style, and likewise may effect some appearance modifications through holding certain items. Commands(3) By saying “T: forward-slash command”, Cecil may execute /summon and /give commands. The /summon command may give him objects that he may feasibly have access to, even if he does not own them. The /summon command may bring up to 24 smaller objects, or 3 larger ones, while the /give command may bring up to 16 smaller objects, or two larger ones, before rendering Cecil too tired to further summon. Biography Early Life Cecil was born as Cecily Shauna Nevverling in Grahamstown, South Africa on 30th October, 2002 to Theodoor Nevverling and Ruth Beverly Nevverling(Now Ruth Beverly Waterman). He was homeschooled for the majority of his childhood, and recalls that his permitted readings were rather limited, but notes that he otherwise remembers little of the time. His father worked in middle management for the Department of Labour—a job which he strongly disliked. While his father was in college, Cecil's home situation decayed quickly, as his mother appeared to take on a different, far more stress-prone character, to the detriment of himself and his younger brother. When his father returned from college in 2014, his parents divorced, as his mother accused his father of cheating with one of his colleagues. Post-Divorce Years De jure joint custody was decided in the battle betweel Cecil's father and mother, and a weekly exchange became customary. Soon after the divorce was processed, Cecil's mother remarried to a Afrikaaner man named Samuel Waterman, The family underwent a period of adjustment as it became necessary to rearrange the house to accomodate expanded family on account of Samuel likewise possessing two children from a previous marriage who were both older than Cecil. His mother had intended to forge a new combined family from Cecil, his brother, and two stepbrothers, but ultimately it did not bear any fruit. Life with his father, Cecil recalls, was "an adjustment," as they had been apart for some time, and his father still struggled with healthy stress management. His father worked on these issues, however, and there were eventually tenuous resolutions across the board in the aforementioned respects. Conversely, his relationship with his mother became more strained as his new stepfather took a more involved hand in parenting, particularly from Grade 7 onward. Cecil "never got the impression that stepfather was any good at parenting, even with his own two kids." According to Cecil, one of his biggest issues with his mother's family as a whole was that "privacy was, simply put, of no value to them. They’d always rifle through my electronics and other belongings alike and harangue me about every minor detail as if I was a felon. In their eyes, I suppose I was, as right before my mother remarried, they found I’d been using the internet for purposes that were not, shall we say, approved of. I once had to shower with my grandfather because they believed that I was not shampooing my hair properly, so with all of that in mind, I would say there were certainly major boundary issues that should have been addressed. But they never were." Epiphany at Schoenstatt Pertaining to his realisation of his transness, Cecil has the following to say: "I suppose that brings us to a pivotal point in my life, where the person you see before you became at all recognisable. I believe I was on a youth retreat at Schoenstatt Retreat and Conference Centre for a girl’s retreat in December of 2015, though it may have been the following year. It’s hard to remember. Until the last year or so, things have been a maelstrom of pain that I’m not keen on revisiting, but I suppose I must, for the sake of an accurate history. For some time before my weekend at the retreat centre, I’d been overcome with this profound sense of malaise, which indeed was why I’d been sent on the retreat in the first place. I had my iPad with me even though I wasn’t really supposed to, and had been browsing the internet when I happened upon an internet forum that just...awakened something in me. I saw people, real people. And I could relate to them in a way I’d rarely experienced before. The experience was something akin to what I imagine the Downers from the video game We Happy Few experience as they come off their joy. It was as if I’d finally come off of a woozy daydream back into the real world, and saw it as it really was. And that world was shit. I don’t like framing that moment of time as an epiphany, but I do think it was a spark that set off a powder keg of years of built-up existential angst. Maybe that’s more dramatic, but whatever the case may be, my life has never been the same. I tried a few times to deftly throw off the burdens of my old identity, but everything from attempting to quietly androgynise my name to trying to get my hair cut short was thwarted. I once had long flowing locks of brown hair that went down to my legs, but now, like the weight of the past, I’ve shed them." The Night of Burning Hair Cecil further recalls his escape from his mother's house: "The next part of my life that’s important is a fateful night, one on the eve of my brother’s birthday. Some background is necessary first, though. My younger brother is about 3 years my junior, and had become the undoubted favourite on my mom’s side before this tale takes place. I was regarded as the problem child for my isolationist tendencies and lack of enthusiasm for just about anything. The invasion of privacy had teased out vague commentary on my sexuality, and had been making inroads towards deeper issues closer to my core for some time. My mom, and in particular my stepfather, had been getting more aggressive about it over the course of my freshman year. Then it happened. It was my brother’s birthday dinner with family, a few days before his actual birthday. The Night of Burning Hair, as I call it. We’d driven up near Pretoria, where my stepfather’s parents lived. We went out to eat at the same restaurant we always did, had a toast to my younger brother, and so on. Normal things. All seemed calm for the moment. But then, during the drive home, my stepfather said we’d need to talk about something. I can remember hearing my own heart as him and my mother agreed that there would be no more secrets, and that they were going to set up some new rules. I couldn’t hold out much longer. I knew it for a fact. I would break tonight. I said I needed to go to the bathroom and change before we spoke, and was allowed. I packed a bag with all I held dear, which was luckily quite easy thanks to already having most of my things in a suitcase, went into the bathroom, and turned on the water. I wrote a hasty coming-out note, and left through the window into the night. My original plan was to find my stepmother’s parents, as they lived in the Pretoria city centre. I tried, but alas I got lost in the unfamiliar cityscape, and ended up trudging through the cold, crisp June night. It must’ve been midnight or perhaps later when I met them. Adriaan, Rynold, and Iggy were their names. I think I owe those three men my life. They were in an alley sitting around one of those metal mobile fire pits, with a little garbage fire going. At first I thought I was going to die by kidnapping or something when one of them walked up next to me as I sat on a bench and tried to get my bearings. He asked if I was alone. I sighed and placed my face in my hands. He introduced himself as Rynold. Patted me on a back, but in a gentle, caring way. Not pushy or predatory. I later learned around the fire that the trio of men were in a polyamorous relationship, and were down on their luck. They were so kind. Asked nothing of me but that I stayed and warmed myself by the fire, and insisted that I could talk to them. Honestly, thinking about such a pure act of human kindness still brings tears to my eyes. I was able to come out to them, and they immediately switched over, in spite of everything. Then and there, that evening, they offered to cut my hair, and that they did. It was an à la victime hairdo due to the crude knife they used, but for what it lacked in elegance, it more than made up in a euphoric freedom. We used it as kindling to warm our bodies and free my heart. I felt safer out in the cold that night than I had in months, maybe years. That morning, when I awoke, I dug through my belongings, and gave the trio 500 Rand and a gold ring I’d been given for my 12th birthday. I still feel as if that failed to express how deeply grateful I was and still am for their aid. I set off, and made it to my stepmother’s parents’ house by noon. I think I must’ve fainted after lunch, because it all becomes hard to compute. The struggle felt like it ended, and my spirit gave out. I suppose my war ended, and my father’s began. He’d already been preparing for a custody battle, having seen the state of emotional turmoil it kept me in, not to mention my mother’s frequent breach of the agreement to divorce amicably with her frequent implicit slander in the early days. And so, despite the volatile nature of it all, I ended up thousands of kilometres away from that world in just a matter of months. I switched out of my school over the Christmas holiday, and before I even had time to think, my father, stepmother, and I had moved to America. I suppose my father always had a plan. I wish my younger brother had come with us, but he opted to stay with my mother when we opened the custodial can of worms. I miss him, but I suppose what’s done is done." Move to Prefeton When Cecil first arrived in Prefeton, he was still rather shaken by the dramatic ending of an era of his life. Having previously come out to his father and stepmother during the custody proceedings, Cecil endeavoured to socially transition at his school, to some initial success. Although he was unable to get his ID changed during his Junior Year, in his senior year, his hard work has paid off, leaving him fully socially transitioned, and the incumbent President of the Prefeton High GSA. Manifestation of Powers Provided below is Cecil's account of the night on which his powers manifested: "It was then maybe two weeks ago, during my last period, as I recall it. I’d been having a particularly rough day with regards to dysphoria, and had spent the greater part of the evening with my shirt on in the bathroom clutching my insides over the toilet as my IBS flared up alongside the dysphoric stress. When I finally mentally wrested myself off my seat, I did my traditional vertigo-induced stumble to the sink, and stood nude in front of the mirror as I always did to try and convince myself that things would turn out fine once I removed those two curséd weights from myself. I started to shower, and sat in the tub with the drops of scalding water raining on my scalp and back as I listened to Deliver Us from the Prince of Egypt soundtrack. I closed my eyes and for a moment, just a moment, tried to imagine the bright future I always told myself I’d have. I’d come so far, and yet, in spite of all the change, my deepest needs still went unmet. I remember, I sighed into my hands, and slowly stood up again. Vertigo hit. My vision blacked out for a second, and then, when I started to regain my physical stability, I felt a twitch come on. My back muscles tightened, and my vision slightly blurred, as was routine, but what was not routine was what came as my vision began to blur. I heard a scraping noise, like a computer error, and I felt myself enter sensory overload. It was a flash of black and then the outside of my shower curtain. I felt a shock wave go through my back as it all transpired in a split second. It disoriented me so badly that I fell in the shower, and though I luckily didn’t black out, I sat there for what felt like an hour in the shower water. The song ended, and I started to regain my bearings. My insides weren’t hurting anymore. I started to wash my body, and noticed something else had changed about my situation. Something far less easily explained. As I began to rub the oatmeal-honey soap on my chest, I felt a distinct lack of flesh. My chest was flat. No breasts in sight. I dropped the soap bar, rinsed my hands, and rubbed my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. Surely I was dreaming. Or was I hallucinating? I felt my chest again, and patted it down with my hands. Even though I saw it in the mirror with my own two eyes and felt it with my own two hands and on my spine, I didn’t believe it until I woke up the next morning, and looked in the mirror again. I wondered for a moment what possibly could have caused it, until, as I stood before the bathroom mirror brushing my teeth that very morning, and as I began to think about how I could possibly explain the phenomenon to my father, I did it. I glitched in real life. I think my base appearance has begun to change in other uncontrollable ways as well. Most noticeably is that when I twitch, my body visibly glitches with an accompanying sound. I think I’ve seen parts of my body jerk away from my body while the glitch occurs. I think it once even did that goat simulator modelling error. More importantly, though, in my opinion, is my voice. It sounds like it’s being broadcast through an antique radio, and is also a hint deeper than it used to be. Some sudden movements for me seem to generate static sounds or something. It’s hard to figure out a rhyme or reason to it.” Relationships Alyssa When Alyssa came to Prefeton, Cecil was chosen to mentor her, and the two quickly bonded, and now have cordial relationship. Ascot Cecil is currently a mentor to Ascot, and the two are on friendly terms. Jack Cecil is currently a mentor to Jack, and the two are on friendly terms. Maurice Maurice and Cecil have a shared passion for history, and are academically friendly rivals. They're friends on Steam, and often play video games together. Cecil considers Maurice attractive, although he does not crush on him. Maurice is Cecil's straight man, and while Cecil acts ridiculous, Maurice will sit back for a good chuckle and stoic delivery. Nikita & Nikolai Cecil and the Sapohznik twins are on overall good terms, sharing interests in history. Although the Sapohzniks are mostly unaware, Cecil regularly has graphic sexual fantasies about being spitroasted by the Sapohzniks. Category:Prefeton Characters Category:Males Category:Alive